


Chinese Lanterns

by Tarlan



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon dwells on losing Alaric, and the regrets left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chinese Lanterns

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MMoM 2013 Day 4

Sinking down by Alaric's grave, Damon took another swallow of the expensive whiskey he had pulled out of his special supply just for this occasion. Looking up he could see the Chinese lanterns that the others had lit sailing up into the sky. He could understand the sentiment, with the others wanting to feel a sense of closure after so many senseless deaths, but not for Alaric.

Alaric's loss was still too soon. Too sharp. And he needed to dwell on it, and on all the things he should have said when the human still lived. His human. A man who should have been a mortal enemy but who had become his best friend instead. The others still needed Alaric. They needed his strength and his guidance, and for someone so young compared to himself, they needed his wisdom.

Damon needed him.

He talked softly, tipping some of the whiskey onto the gravestone in a personal salute to a man who had meant so much to him, and fancied for a moment that he could feel Alaric's presence beside him. Damon snorted softly, aware that Alaric was probably berating him for being a maudlin drunk. Not that the drunken effect would last long before his vampire blood shook it off.

He put the bottle down and leaned back, closing his eyes and letting his memories of Alaric come forward, erasing the darkness of the night and the darkness in his soul, or conscience, as some debated over whether vampires could have a soul when they were technically dead. With his eyes closed he could bring back a sense memory. He could smell the slight tang of Alaric's aftershave mingling with the richer scent of his blood. He could see the handsome face; the bright eyes and ready smile.

"I wanted you," he whispered. "Even considered getting you off the Vervain just so I could compel you into my bed. The things I would have done to you. Made you beg for me."

He slipped a hand down to unzip his jeans, reaching in to stroke an already hard cock. Smiling as he pictured Alaric's face, with lips swollen from kisses and throat marked with a possessive bite. It didn't take long to bring himself to climax, and he whispered Alaric's name as he came.

Quietly, he cleaned up before grabbing the bottle and taking another long swallow.

"I miss you," he whispered, and lifted his head to watch the distant specks of light in the night sky as the lanterns floated away.

***

Alaric stood before Damon, looking down into the oblivious vampire's face before kneeling down. He reached out and let his hands ghost over Damon, saddened that he couldn't touch him.

"You wouldn't have needed to compel me," he whispered. "I miss you too."

END


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